


slashing at ghosts

by crownedcarl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror (mild), Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Psychological Trauma, Supernatural Illnesses, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl
Summary: Theo made his bed; it's time to lie in it.





	slashing at ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> title from a softer world, 943. heed the tags & warnings; i didn't use the non-con archive warnings because the additional tag of "implied/referenced non-con" fits better. let me know if anything needs additional tagging!

Theo doesn’t sleep easily, anymore.

The back of his truck isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to begin with, but with the autumn frost creeping right around the corner, lurking at the windows, the inside of the truck is freezing despite the ratty blankets and jackets Theo piles on top of himself in the backseat. He gets used to the shivering and the rattling of his own teeth, but as far as the discomfort goes, he’s had worse.

He hasn’t spoken to Scott or the others in weeks. He figured he’d gain at least a few grudging nods of respect after doing his part during the Wild Hunt, but after the train had been averted, Theo ended up cast aside, watching a reunion he wasn’t invited to, on the outside looking in. The realization of how badly he _wanted_ to be invited had touched a nerve, and maybe it’s as much his fault as theirs that he hasn’t seen any of them, lately. Theo didn’t stick around for pleasantries, after all.

He did expect more from Liam, though. After saving his ass over and over, Theo felt a tentative hope sprouting in his chest, like a flower blooming through the cracks in the concrete, but Liam looked straight through him and said nothing at all.

Maybe it’s stupid, but he thought at least Liam would try to accept the olive branch Theo was extending, but it’s been weeks without a single word from him, and Theo’s getting used to being alone. He’s had to fend for himself for a long time, but he made this bed. It’s time to lie in it, now.

A part of him wonders if Liam has thought about him at all, but he forces himself to think about other things. Anything is better than being reminded of how lonely he is.

-

Sometimes, if people get too close -

(not that he gives them the chance, not that any of them want to be near him, not that Theo’s pathetic enough to _want_ them to-)

\- sometimes, if people get too close and hover where Theo can’t see them, it takes him back to that dilapidated building in the woods, to the moment where his hands were burned, his vision turning blurry, body knocked harshly to the ground. Sometimes, it takes Theo back to his pathetic attempt at escape from a creature stronger than himself, Garrett’s breath hot and harsh on the back of his neck. He sometimes swears he can hear Garrett in his dreams, shuddering at the growled threat that still fills him with terror: _I’ll rip you in two._

He made good on that promise.

The others don’t know, and Theo is desperately grateful for it, because the others _can’t_ know what happened when they left him behind with something so sinister even Theo turned tail and tried to run. He can’t imagine anything worse than them seeing right through him and pinpointing the wound Garrett left in him, but his mind is a busy thing at night, racing with unwelcome thoughts.

What would be worse - them not knowing because none of them cared to look beneath the surface of Theo’s cracking facade, or them knowing and not doing anything about it? He knows they saw him cowering in the corner, a beaten dog seeking shelter, and he knows at least Scott and Malia smelled the blood. He knows it’s a noxious scent, fear and pain and blood thick in the air, but nobody said anything, and Theo took care of it, anyway.

He knows enough about his own supernatural state of being that he realizes the black nosebleeds are a bad sign, but not confronting the problem almost lets him pretend it doesn’t exist, so Theo ignores it - might as well, considering nobody else is paying it any attention.

He swallows harshly and burrows deeper into the nest of blankets and haphazardly piled-up clothes he’s made his bed. He doesn’t want to think about Garrett, anymore, and shifts in the backseat, desperate to get comfortable and warmed up enough to drift off, begging for his dreams to be peaceful or, at the very least, quiet. He's getting used to the company of ghosts.

-

Scott finally asks Theo to come to the animal clinic, but he emphasizes the fact that Theo’s not exactly welcome; a necessary evil, as Stiles puts it, and Theo makes himself stand tall and accept that. He needs to be on their good side, at least until he manages to figure a way out of Beacon Hills, and cooperating seems to be the least painful option he has.

It’s not a great atmosphere, standing around with everyone’s stares judging him. Theo knows he looks disheveled, but that’s what happens when you’re sleeping in your car and living on ten dollars a week. He smooths his hair back in an effort to make them all stop staring.

Deaton might not be his biggest fan, but the guy doesn’t go out of his way to make Theo feel insignificant, so he counts that as progress. “We need your...expertise,” the man tells him, which means Scott’s little pack has run into something nasty enough to call in the resident science experiment to help them figure things out. “Frankly, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Theo feels light-headed; his nightmares led to a migraine that won’t go away. His breath is getting shallow, but he learned how to control himself a long time ago and forces his lungs to expand on a great heave of air, drawing a strange look from Scott, before then stepping forward to inspect the corpse of whatever the hell Deaton’s dragged into his clinic.

Definitely a supernatural being, but which? Theo can’t tell at first glance. The body is rotting with decay, except… “You said this guy was still warm when you found him?”

Nodding, Liam points at the former face of whatever it is Theo’s staring down at. It’s all been eaten away. “He still had eyes,” Liam mumbles, “It happened so fast, he kind of - fell apart?”

“I can see that,” Theo mutters. He hears Stiles groan in disgust as he slowly peels back the scalp, staring at the skull beneath. Someone heaves, loudly. “Huh. The meat’s gone dark already.”

Sensing their stares, Theo adds “You don’t see this kind of decay in fresh bodies. Something accelerated the decomposition.”

He has no clue what it could be, though. He’s never seen wolfsbane do this to werewolves, before, but he can’t tell what the poor bastard on the table is supposed to be; the fangs and claws are the same as Scott and Malia’s, but the scent is all wrong for a coyote or wolf. Could be the decay interfering, but there’s no way to tell. “I’m thinking,” Theo says, “That you have to open this one up to figure out what he is. Or what he used to be.”

There’s something distinct about the scent, though, and Theo leans closer to catch it, freezing when he realizes what he’s seeing. The blackness coating the skull is horrifically familiar.

“Dude, that’s nasty,” Stiles complains, and Theo absently wipes his upper lip, coming away with a smudge of black. He backs away from the body, avoiding the eyes he can feel watching him.

He doesn’t get the option of lying, right now. He knows he could fool them all into thinking he’s got no idea what’s going on, but he needs to be in their good graces, and any clue to put them on the right track is better than nothing. “I’ve seen this before,” Theo rushes to say, “I can’t tell for sure what this thing is supposed to be, but...I saw something similar happen. The body rejected a bite or a claim, and this is the end result.”

“Oh,” Scott exclaims, turning his head and trading wide-eyed glances with Stiles, “Derek told me about this, remember?”

“I remember him saying it would kill you,” Stiles agrees, “But he never said you’d turn into some disgusting horror movie extra. Look at this thing!”

Theo takes a deep breath, then snaps “Look, you have other things to worry about right now. It had to be an alpha, right? That means there’s someone new in town, challenging you, going around trying to turn people.”

A little misdirection - that's not a lie. Not a lie Scott can catch him in, anyway. Theo's thoughts are turning dark and ominous. He feels nauseous; he doesn’t want to end up this way.

Everyone starts talking over each other all at once, the noise deafening when Theo’s head is already splitting apart, so he takes that as his cue to leave. Stepping outside into the crisp air, he raises his hand to his nose again, and there’s more black sludge trailing down his upper lip, the taste of it bitter on his tongue.

He briefly considers going back inside and asking Deaton for help, but his pride won’t allow it after so many humiliations and disappointments. He goes back to his truck, instead, and spends the night in a restless, feverish terror.

-

The truth is, Theo’s been through worse than what Garrett did to him. He’s never been fazed by pain. If he had to think all the way back to his childhood and the Dread Doctors, what happened with Garrett isn’t even close to the worst thing that Theo’s ever endured, but it’s the one thing that sticks. The fact that it happened less than fifty yards away from Scott and Liam makes him feel sick, and it keeps him in a state of perpetual unease, wondering what they know, wondering what they don’t. It’s driving him crazy.

A terrible, self-destructive part of him is laughing itself sick, because this is the least of what Theo deserves, isn’t it? Garrett knew it, too.

_Scream if you want, chimera. Nobody is coming to bring you salvation._

He’d burned at the implication, imagining Scott and Liam and Malia coming back and _seeing._ It made his skin crawl. It still does, and it’s not getting any better.

Crying about it will get him nowhere, but Theo flushes hot when he realizes how close he came to being found out and how relieved he was that nobody knew, back then, but it’s an unbearable burden to carry by himself. Garrett’s claws in his back still cause phantom pains, sometimes, but worse than that is the scent Theo can’t shake, and the memory of being pressed face-first into the dirt, mouth clamped shut against noise. He choked on his own frantic half-screams.

He’s curled up in the backseat again, but it’s getting hard to breathe. Theo rolls down a window and puts his arms around himself and hours later, when he’s asked to move the truck, he goes without complaint, numb all over.

-

The bleeding goes on and on and doesn’t slow, but it doesn’t get any worse, either, and Theo figures that’s all he could really ask for. There’s nobody around to witness his nosebleeds, except the lady at the laundromat who always fusses over him, bringing him paper towels to clean up his mess, gently pressing a container of leftovers into his hands and insisting that growing boys need to eat. It feels a little strange, being mothered, but Theo is grateful for the help. Asking for it would be more humiliating than anything else he could imagine, but it’s still a shock to see kindness given so freely after everything he’s done.

He doesn’t get any more calls from Scott for a while, and he’s all but given up hope on Liam ever deigning to contact him, so he’s more than a little surprised when the first text comes in, littered with typos and urgency. He weighs his options; leaving town now wouldn’t work, especially after Scott’s all but begging him to come to his house, so Theo gets himself over there as fast as he can on foot. Gas money has been tight, lately.

There’s another body, Scott tells him at the door, and Theo gets a cold sense of foreboding in his gut.

He doesn’t want to die. Not like that.

“What do you want me to say?” Theo snaps, because after explaining to them for the third damn time that he doesn’t know what’s going on, Stiles and Malia are pushing his buttons, demanding answers that Theo doesn’t have. He’s not responsible for this and he doesn’t know who the hell is, but that’s not something the others are willing to accept. “I’ve told you everything I know, which isn’t much more than you do. They’re dying from the rejection, alright? That’s it. That’s all I got.”

“But there’s no alpha,” Scott protests, and he sounds pretty certain. Theo twitches his shoulder in a reluctant shrug. “I can’t catch a scent, so it’s nobody new, and it can take a while for this to happen, right? Could it have been Douglas?”

Right. Of course they have to talk about this, now of all times.

“Hell if I know,” Theo replies, suddenly realizing how tired he is. “He was in a vat the whole time I was with the Doctors, Scott. I don’t know what he can and can’t do.”

He has his suspicions, though, but he’s not about to share that with the class. He remembers the Dread Doctor’s words: _condition terminal,_ and something terrified slithers down his spine.

The first lesson the Dread Doctors taught him was to show no weakness. Theo reigns in the bitter laugh on his tongue and forces himself to meet Scott’s searching eyes. “Look, not that I’m not happy to help, but-”

“You’re bleeding,” Liam says, his voice cutting through the fog in Theo’s mind. Startled, he brings his hand up to his face, fingers coming away stained black, a thick silence blanketing everyone as they stand in an awkward half-circle, all of them staring at Theo. He’s not happy to be the center of attention, especially not now, and turns his head to wipe the blood on his sleeve without an audience.

“I think I’ll live,” he mutters, but for some reason, Liam’s not willing to let this go. He’s blocking the exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, all five feet of him staring Theo down in a demand for answers.

“You were alone with Douglas,” Liam insists, “Did he do something to you?”

 _How could I stay away?_ Garrett whispered. The shame flushes Theo hot all over. They can’t know. Theo would rather be dragged back to the darkness than let them in on this secret.

He really doesn’t like the way Liam’s sounding almost concerned, and he definitely doesn’t like the gleam of pity in Scott’s eyes. “He beat the hell out of me,” Theo snarls, “I’m sure you noticed.”

“Did he do anything else?” Scott asks, and he’s pushing too hard, now, pushing so hard Theo feels like he’s going to crack straight down the middle, because he can’t handle this. It’s too much, all at once.

A contrary, bitter part of him wants to tell the truth, because Scott would bend over backwards to fix it if he felt guilty enough, but another dark part of Theo wants to sink his teeth into the truth and never let it go. It’s his to keep, what Garrett did.

He meets Scott’s eyes evenly. “Like what?” Theo challenges, wondering if Scott has the balls to say it, if he’s figured it out. “Exactly what do you think he did, Scott? Go on, tell me, I’m dying to know.”

He’s almost disappointed. Scott shrugs with tight shoulders and blurts “I don’t know, but he must have done something. What if this happens to you, too? You don’t smell right,” he points out, like Theo doesn’t know it, already. “You’re dying, aren’t you?”

Is he? Probably. It’s been a long time coming, but Theo would gladly take a slow death over plunging to the depths again. Maybe this time, Tara will leave him alone.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer, because Liam snaps “Of course he’s not dying,” with enough conviction to be startling, making Theo’s head whip around just in time to catch the snarl on Liam’s face. “Why would you say that? We don’t know that.”

“Except I’m right,” Scott says, his voice all gentle like it only is with Liam, and Theo pretends not to feel a stab of envy at the thought. “Aren’t I?”

“Could be,” Theo allows, pushing his way past Liam, pulse quickening in anticipation of - something, maybe Liam grabbing his wrist, asking him not to go, telling Theo he wants to help, but it never comes. Only an anxious heartbeat and silence. “Are we done? I have places to be.”

He’s infuriated. Scott’s figured half of the puzzle out, and he hasn’t done a damn thing to help; hasn’t offered to call Deaton, isn’t trying to make Theo stay put to make a plan. He’s willing to let Theo walk out and die, and it chips away at something vulnerable inside of him, something begging to belong. None of these people give a damn, and Theo wasted his time and effort for nothing.

Before he gets a foot out the door, Liam’s wavering voice blurts “Did Douglas hurt you?” with so much trembling earnesty that Theo pauses in his tracks, throwing a glance backwards at Liam, realizing then and there how small he looks when he’s afraid.

Lying is easy, but Theo doesn’t bother with the effort. “Yeah,” he says, keeping it simple; if he owes any of them, it’s Liam, and it’s not like Theo will be around long enough to feel embarrassed about telling the truth. “I’ll...see you around.”

By now, he’s not surprised that he’s not asked to stay, and it barely hurts at all to walk away.

-

“You can’t be dying.”

Not what Theo expected to hear first thing in the morning, if he’s being honest, but not the worst kind of wake-up call he could get. He lies perfectly still, aching after a night of broken sleep, and groans “Are you serious, right now? You call me to tell me _that?”_

Liam’s voice does something weird, like maybe he’s laughing nervously and then choked on the sound. “You can’t be dying,” he repeats, and Theo rolls his eyes as he tries to inch out of the sunlight, back flat against the seat. “You just...can’t die like that. Not right now.”

“Is in a few weeks more convenient for you?” Theo asks, voice dry, wincing as Liam exhales sharply.

“Don’t joke about it,” Liam snaps. “It’s not funny.”

“Why, though?” Theo mutters, curling on his side, cellphone cradled between shoulder and ear, the casing cool against his skin. “Why can’t I die, Liam?”

“...because,” he whispers, suddenly sounding far away, “Because we haven’t talked. We haven’t had a chance to talk.”

Theo’s heart is beating fast, racing. “About what?” he replies, equally as softly. “What do we have to talk about?”

He thinks Liam’s hung up, for a moment, after the silence stretches and becomes overwhelming, but then Liam says “About us. Look, you - can you come over, later? It’ll be just us,” he rushes to say, “No ambush, like last time. Just...come over?”

Without thinking it through, Theo groans “God, alright, now shut up,” and hangs up without saying goodbye. His hand is trembling when he puts it across his face, because after so many days of longing, he might finally be getting a fraction of what he wants.

-

Time’s running out.

Theo isn’t an idiot. He knows the same thing that Scott does; rejecting a claim will kill him, and slowly, and his time is almost up. There’s nothing that can be done for him, but it’s nice to play pretend at being a kid again, sitting on Liam’s bed with a Xbox controller in his hands as Liam steps on another landmine and blows himself to high heaven.

He could be content if this was the last thing he ever did, he thinks, then grimaces at his own sentimentality. “This is fun,” Theo says, pausing the game and turning his attention to Liam. “But I thought you said you wanted to talk?”

Liam’s hair is falling softly around his face, curling at the ends. He looked like he came straight out of the shower as he let Theo inside, and he hasn’t been able to shake the thought of reaching out to touch those damp strands since he got here. It’s messing with his head.

Thinking about Liam is different from thinking about Garrett. It’s the difference between a bright summer day and a cold winter night; polar opposites, but Theo’s still wary of letting Liam get too close.

“I did, didn’t I?” Liam sighs, leaning back against the bed, drawing his knees up to his chest. He looks sad, and Theo wonders if he did that. “So...about the whole dying thing.”

“Oh,” Theo chuckles, the laughter startled out of him, “That. What about it?”

Liam’s glaring. Theo holds his hands up in a gesture of peace, which doesn’t work out as well when he has to bring his sleeve to his face to stop the sudden nosebleed. “Deaton says those bodies were probably bitten before, um. Before Douglas ate the Ghost Rider’s brain.”

Theo feels a little sick at the reminder. “Yeah, I was there,” he mutters, “So what?”

Liam gives him this look Theo can’t decipher. “They died pretty quickly, considering,” he says, like Theo’s supposed to read between the lines. “But you’re still here.”

“Douglas never bit me,” Theo counters. “Of course I’m not dying as fast.”

“Where did all the blood come from, then?”

Theo’s teeth click together as his mouth snaps shut. Christ, he’s been lying his whole life but Liam’s staring at him like he’s waiting for an answer he already knows, staring at Theo like the truth matters, months later, when it’s too late to do anything about it. “You tell me,” he scowls, “What’s your theory, genius?”

“You were just sitting there,” Liam says, like he has to go into excruciating detail when Theo knows damn well what he looked like, cowed and defeated. He almost can’t bear to listen, but makes himself. “You looked really scared. And there was blood, but your lip was just split and that’s not - that’s not where it came from. You were so scared and I thought, I thought maybe-”

The way Liam swallows through a dry throat is audible. It’s painful to listen to. “And I knew,” Liam finishes, putting his head in his hands, “But I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t even want to think it, but I knew, and I didn’t do anything.”

“...is that supposed to make me feel better?” Theo asks. He doesn’t bother trying to tell Liam he’s wrong. He knows. “Because it doesn’t.”

Maybe it should feel more like a betrayal, because up until now, all Theo had were suspicions feeding the anxiety, but Liam’s confessing and all Theo feels is relief, because -

Liam saw. He knew. Theo wasn’t alone, carrying the weight. It’s a fucked up way of looking at it, but it’s all he has.

“I know,” Liam says, wavering between misery and guilt, “I know, and I’m - I’m sorry, Theo, I’m so sorry-”

It breaks the floodgates right open, Liam’s shaken apology, and before he knows what he’s doing Theo’s choking out “It’s alright,” and meaning it, hands clenching into fists in his lap, vision blurring. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t.”

“But I do,” Liam insists, and Theo doesn’t like the way his lower lip is wobbling, how Liam looks close to tears. They both do, probably, and Theo doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it all in. “You’re supposed to be my friend, and I let you down.”

“You did,” Theo finds himself saying, but it’s small and reluctant and quiet, torn from his throat and heavy with the truth. His forehead falls against his knees, tucked tight against his chest, something trembling inside of him at the realization that maybe, despite everything, he doesn’t deserve this. “And it _sucked.”_

He doesn’t flinch from the tentative brush of a hand against his own, but it’s a close call. “I know,” Liam says, “Trust me, I know. I’m so sorry.”

Theo’s grip on Liam’s hand is tight enough to be bruising, but Liam doesn’t complain; he squeezes back just as hard and pretends not to notice that Theo’s scrunching his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself and crying all over himself, and after a while, he feels calmer.

Liam doesn’t push him to keep talking about it. It’s awfully comfortable, in a way, the fact that Liam doesn’t comment on it at all. He leaves the room and comes back with a glass of water for Theo, and when he makes to leave, Liam blurts “Take my bed, just for tonight. I...sort of know where you’ve been sleeping. Just for tonight?”

It’s remarkably easy to agree, if only to shut Liam up and not have to make a big deal about it and for the first time in months, Theo sleeps easily.

-

He wakes up to muted sunlight and laughter ringing in his ears.

Theo almost forgets where he is, for a moment, expecting there to be a knock at the window, a stern face warning him to move, but he rolls over in Liam’s bed and buries his face in the pillow, content to stay there for as long as Liam will let him. He’s grateful for the respite from the cramped confines of the truck.

“Oh, hey,” Liam’s saying, his voice lowered to a whisper, “You’re up. How’d you sleep?”

Theo cracks an eye open, wondering if Liam’s playing pretend. It should be awkward between them, after last night, but Liam looks bright and rested, half-smiling, looking at Theo like there’s no bad blood between them at all. “...amazingly,” he rasps out, closing his eyes again, “‘s nice, having a real bed to sleep in.”

Liam makes a sympathetic noise. Theo can feel the air shifting with Liam’s movements, but he’s too groggy to make an effort at tracking where Liam’s going, what direction he’s heading in, and all Theo can do is make a soft, surprised noise when a hand cards through his hair. He can smell Liam’s faint embarrassment and the wave of pleasure that’s radiating from him, all at once.

“Sorry,” Liam whispers, “Should I - should I have asked? Just, you-”

Theo surprises himself by laughing and shifting into the touch. “Nah,” he sighs, “Liam, c’mon. You really think I’m _that_ fragile?”

Maybe he is, but Liam snorts and shakes his head. When he lays himself down beside Theo, he can hear Liam’s heart start to race. “No,” he tells Theo, “Not at all.”

“So,” Theo whispers, “What are you waiting for, then?”

Liam’s breath is warm and minty fresh against Theo’s cheek. He keeps his eyes closed; not knowing what’s coming is terrifying, but trusting Liam not to push makes it easier.

Butterflies - that’s what it feels like, Liam’s lips against his own. Butterfly wings touching down lightly before departing, Theo’s mouth sweet with the taste, his hands tangling in Liam’s hair. It isn’t a harsh grip. He’s holding on to keep himself anchored.

“I’ll do better,” Liam whispers, “I promise,” but Theo doesn’t let him get any farther; he finds Liam’s mouth for another kiss, and another, contentment singing in his bones.

“I could stay like this forever,” Theo laughs.

“You can,” Liam mumbles, “You should,” and Theo drifts back to sleep with Liam’s soft laughter in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> end notes added: 18/09/2017. so, a few of the comments & feedback i've been getting are asking for a sequel, which i'll hopefully be able to bring to you guys soon!


End file.
